Going home
by Silverlionessdreamer
Summary: It wasn't until years later, fifty-four to be exact, when he realized why Hogwarts had been his home to him.


**A****/N I had some inspiration left, so I decided to put that into this fic. I know I usually write about Dramione, but I recently saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows 2 and I felt some remorse for TOM RIDDLE (not Voldemort). Anyway, this fic is written following the book. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Warning: Character death**

It wasn't until years later, fifty-four to be exact, when he realized why Hogwarts had been his home to him. I wasn't because of the teachers, or the huge numbers of books, which he liked to read. It wasn't because of the countless corridors, or the treasures hidden within the castle's walls. Not because of the magic, or knowledge, or the power, or the place he felt accepted. It was because something, someone, who had made it a home and the same person, had taken it away of him. When he walked into the ancient school those fifty-four years later, he could still recall everything that had happened and for the first time in his life, he realized he had made a mistake.

He was afraid of Death, because it would mean that he wasn't invincible. That had been his reason for years, but not now, not anymore. He was afraid, terrified, horrified because Death could come so cruelly and unexpected. He didn't like the unexpected; it was so much harder to remain control, and that was all he wanted; to have control. Control over life and death, over good and evil, over his own life. He had seen Death, he had fed Death, helped it, made it his ally, but he couldn't embrace it, nor could he accept it. Death was a solution to his problems, but at the same time it was the cause for all his problems. He had done a lot to ensure that Death wouldn't take him by surprise and so far Death hadn't come.

He stopped for a moment and looked at the lake; the beautiful, peaceful lake where the most terrible thing had happened in his life. He had long banished it from his thoughts, but now, being here, made it impossible and unbearable not to think of her. Her restless optimism, her shy, modest, but kind attitude towards him, something he had never deserved. He had treated her in a cold manner, something he now wished he had never done. If he had not, he could have had her now. He had made a terrible mistake and he paid for it, every day again and again.

The first time he had returned here, after all that had happened the Headmaster had rejected him; he had been too young to be a teacher. He agreed; he had been too young to carry the burden hidden deep within him. The burden had repressed and changed him until he was over the edge, with no turning back. But he hadn't realized back then why Hogwarts was his home.

The man continued his route towards the Great Hall where the heat of the battle was. He had killed their leader, his enemy. It had been due to his misstep that the young boy, barely seventeen, was his enemy, for he had created him himself. So it had only been fair that he gotten rid of his own created enemy. The only thing left was to kill any rebels left. They would know his greatness.

People parted for him and he could see the fear in their eyes; fear for him and for his name. He had always wanted to make people fear him; it was one of his ways to keep control. There was one, however, that had never been afraid of him, and he never had been afraid of that one. One person that he couldn't control, but she couldn't control him either. She was unreachable for him and yet he longed for her. That had been his greatest mistake; he had made her unreachable; partially because he was afraid of getting rejected, mostly because he didn't know if she deserved him. Now, fifty-four years later, he thought the complete opposite. He had reached the Hall and blocked some spells, only to cast some himself.

The second time he came back here, he was rejected again, by a different Headmaster. That Headmaster thought that he would use the students to create an army or to find more treasure within the castle's walls. That had been his plan, he had convinced himself it was, but somewhere deep down; he knew that it wasn't the true reason.

There was his enemy again, risen from Death. They circled each other and he could see that the boy had a look a fury in his eyes, one he knew all too well. Fury because she died, because he couldn't have her. Fury because no one was allowed to be happy if he wasn't, fury because all he wanted was to find her, a hopeless search. The past fifty-four years passed incredibly blurry and fast physically, but unbelievable sharp and slow mentally. He could still smell her hair or feel her skin; everyday he had been reminded of her and everyday he had to tell himself that they weren't meant to be. He had deceived himself by thinking that she wasn't worthy enough, that he denied his love for her. Maybe if he had showed his true colours, she wouldn't have died.

It wasn't until fifty-four years later when he realized that he had never stopped loving her; that he had left his heart here, buried deep with her. He yelled the Killing Curse to his enemy, knowing that he would win and that he would get world domination, his dream. That he would get where he had fought for and that she would leave him alone. She wasn't here anymore and she had to be forgotten in order to move on. That was all he wanted; to completely move on. He felt his wand, the Elder Wand, leave his hand and he saw his own spell rebound and coming towards him.

In that mere second before the spell hit him he instantly knew. He wasn't scared by Death anymore; instead he accepted it and embraced it. He didn't have to worry about anything anymore; he didn't have to miss her anymore, or to be in pain. He would die in the same place she had; it would give him a second chance. He knew, he just knew, that she would receive him with open arms. At last he would be home; with her. She had always been his home, from the moment he had met her at Hogwarts, she had been his home, he'd only never realized. Finally after fifty-four years he was at peace with himself and he was ready to die. The last thing he felt was how the spell hit him and he drifted away, towards her. He was home; at last.

**A/N Read and Review please!**


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